


Found

by gingersatan



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-15 19:36:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8070034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingersatan/pseuds/gingersatan
Summary: Post Empire of Storms, Rowan has found Aelin. Kind of. And it sets of a series of events. Characters find where their loyalies lie, other characters go to find the people they love...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Don't read this if you haven't read Empire of Storms.

He hardly recognised her. They were her eyes, it was her hair- as limp and dirty as it was- and it was her face. But it wasn’t Aelin.

She was curled up in the corner of the cell- if it could be called that- her back to the wall. Her eyes were open, but they were not seeing him.

‘Aelin.’ Rowan whispered, crouching down. ‘Please.’ He had been here for minutes now, minutes too long, and each passing second was another second he could be caught in, caught and dragged up to Maeve, to be used and tortured for her own fun and to hurt Aelin more. ‘I would prefer Celaena to this. Please.’

He had seen her broken before. Seen her drunk and lost and hurt. But none of that- it was nothing compared to this. When Aelin had gone last time, there was Celaena, the mask that hid everything while flaunting it in others faces. But now, even that mask had been cracked beyond repair.

This was his mate. His mate, and he had no clue what to do to help her. In all his years, Rowan had never felt so helpless.

An alarm sounded above them, raised voices, and Rowan clenched his fists. This was expected- in all honesty he thought they would realise he was there sooner- but he had thought he would get in, grab his mate and leave again. He didn’t expect…this.

‘Aelin.’ He tried again. ‘Fireheart.’

A blink, and he thought it was a reaction- until all she did was roll over to face the wall. 

Her back.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her back. She had lost so much weight, and he had seen the new scars and bruises that covered her arms, had seen the rags that barely passed for clothes. But her back.

He had known her scars by heart. Each one had been a reminder- that she had survived, she had survived and found him and was strong. But those scars were now hidden by newer ones, harsh red lines that were barely healed. He had kissed every one of her scars one, and they had gone.

‘Aelin.’ His voice broke on the word, and he hated himself for it. Because this was his fault. She was his mate, his wife, Queen of a court that wanted-needed- her back, and he hadn’t protected her. It should be him in the cell, not her. ‘We need to go.’

Slowly, as if every movement caused her pain, she put her hands over her ears.

She didn’t believe him. Didn’t believe he was actually there- how many times had she cried out for him to rescue her, how many times had she thought she had seen his face, heard his voice, when it wasn’t real.

He was as much a torturer than Maeve, in her head at least.

He rested his head against the bars, his hands gripping them as if he could pull them apart. He wished he could, but he also wished it was Maeve head in his hands that he was crushing, breaking, ruining as she had Aelin.

He never thought he could truly hate Maeve. But now… He would break her entire court apart for revenge. For Aelin.

‘Rowan.’

He shut his eyes, pulling himself back together before standing and facing the other fae male who once had been a sort of friend. Until this. ‘Fenrys.’

‘She knows you are here.’

Maeve knew everything that was going on in her realm. ‘So are you going to drag me back up to her? Whip me like you have my Queen?’

Rowan might have been imagining it, but he was sure the other Fae flinched. ‘You know that wasn’t me.’

‘You didn’t stop it.’ A snarl.

‘How was I meant to, when she ordered me to stand still and watch? I did everything I could to help her.’

‘It’s not enough, Fenrys.’

A pause, the males staring at each other, refusing to be the first to look away. Then:

‘She ordered me to find you. Not to bring her back.’

‘It would have been implied. Or she’s watching to see what you do.’

‘I don’t care.’ His jaw tightened. ‘I don’t care. I was with your queen long enough, Rowan, to learn to care about her. She was more a friend to us than we have had in…forever. So I don’t care.’

‘Then let me take her away.’

‘I can’t.’

‘Another order?’

‘Yes.’ Fenrys frowned. ‘But…she didn’t say I couldn’t.’

If Rowan could, he would have smiled. Years ago, none of them would have gone against Maeve’s word, implied or not. Yet now…they were all doing what little they could. He didn’t know what was worse; them following orders and being safer, or them rebelling and getting punished. Fenrys would suffer for this…but Aelin came first.

‘Bring her to me.’ Rowan laid out a plan carefully, telling the other male to meet him after sundown. ‘And Fenrys?’

‘What?’

‘If you don’t bring her, I will do everything in my power to destroy this place. With all of you in it’. He walked away without another word.

And then he waited. It was only hours, short hours compared to his long life, but each minute felt like a day, and before the sun had even disappeared, he had thought of every terrible ending to this day.

Maeve could find out. It could be a trap. Maeve could find out. She could kill Aelin- to get back at him. Fenrys could back out. Maeve could find out.

But then he saw his…friend, walking over the hill with a bundle in his arms. A bundle that looked so small, too small to be his mate.

But it was.

Rowan remembered a long time ago, when he had carried her in the same way. Before he knew her,before he saw her as what she was. Princess, survivor, warrior. Part of her had hated him back then. Hate…hate had been better than what this was. The emptiness. The…nothing.

Fenrys thrust her at him when he arrived. ‘Take her.’ He said. ‘Far away, for years. Dont…let the world know where she is. Don’t even let her court know. Or Maeve will find out and come after both of you.’

There were shadows in his eyes, a fear for them and for himself. ‘Fenrys. What will she do to you?’

‘I don’t know.’ A smile. ‘Think about yourself, Rowan. Not me.’

No one deserved the punishments Maeve dealt out. Not for this,not for anything. ‘If you ever get away from her, Fenrys, if you run or she sets you free, there will a place at our court for you.’

Hope, Rowan had learnt, was as powerful in war as any blade was. Hope kept everyone fighting, wanting more, wanting different. Hope was dangerous, but Fenrys needed it. Because even Rowan wondered if he would ever see the male again.

Rowan wrapped his arms around his mate, tucking her into his chest and turned away. She still hadn’t responded, and a part of Rowan’s heart broke. But she was there, in his arms, safe. He just needed to do something to bring her back to him.

And for Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, Queen of Terrasen and his wife, Prince Rowan Whitethorn would do anything.


	2. Fenrys

Maeve was waiting for him in the throne room, as Fenrys had expected. Her face was expressionless, almost bored, compared to Cairn's smirk beside her.

He hovered in the doorway for a second, two, before she had enough.

'Come in.' An order his feet obeyed when he wished they wouldn't. Her face changed then, and he could see the malice in her eyes, mixed with hate and amusement. He would have been shocked, once, but now he knew she relished the pain and fear of others, the helplessness of him and his friends when they followed her every word.

With every step into the room, her eyes seemed to brighten more. Five paces in, he knew why. Why the amusement, why the whip in Cairn's clasped hands. Connall. His brother, his twin, who he had tried to protect for years, kneeling on the floor with blood pooling around him, the back of his shirt ripped and ruined and red.

'You took something of great importance to me.' Maeve said, and Fenry's had never hated her more. 'I think it only right I return the favour.'

He schooled his face into nothing as he strode over to his brother, kneeling down next to him. His hand reached out, then drew back- there was not a place on his brothers body that looked unhurt. 

'Are you okay?' 

No answer. Connall did not even look at him.

'Poor thing.' Maeve said, her voice saying she didn't think either one of them was _poor_. 'I must have forgotten to tell him he could talk again. The screams got a bit...tedious after a while.'

_A while._ How long had this been going on- since he had had taken Aelin? Since he had first seen Rowan? Had he walked past this room while it was happening, oblivious and unaware that his brother was being punished for him?

'I thought I could trust you.' A sigh, and he shook as he choked back the words he had been trained to say whenever he heard these. _You can trust me. I am your loyal servant._ No more. Never.

'You _could_ trust me.' He stood up, staring her in the eyes.

'Until you met the fire breathing bitch?'

God, it seems so long ago when they first met her. He thought her brash, rude, selfish. Didn't understand why Whitethorn liked her- loved her. But then he saw a part of her brain, always planning, scheming with every second. He saw the way she treated her court. Like people. Like the friends and the family they were. He saw the way she treated Whitethorn. With respect and care. He watched her sacrifice herself for someone else. And he knew- no, he had always known- he had finally _realised_ he would never have a life like that. A life where someone actually gave a damn about him.

'Until you let me see what a real queen looked like.'

He was going to die for this. They were all going to die for this. But if he was going to die- he would rather go fighting for a sliver of life and freedom he had been given. She had made a mistake giving them that fake freedom. She had already lost three of her blood-sworn. He would rather her lose more and gain Cairn than have him any longer. Hurt Connall any longer.

Finally, Maeve showed something more than amusement. Her eyes narrowed, her mouth tightening into a thin line as she studied him. Anger, so much anger in the room that it almost choked him.

Fenrys had been in war. He had killed soldiers and innocent alike, at her orders and on his own back. He had seen every form of anger and hate, seen what moral and fae could do when faced with the fear of death. It could turn the gentlest mother into a fighter, turn the most hardened soldier into a shaking mess. He was not as well travelled as Whitethorn; he had not levelled as many villages and towns. But he was a master of hate himself, every time he was called to Maeve's service.   
But he had never felt anger as thick as this. 

'Well.' Maeve said softly. Cairn grinned beside her, the whip swaying in his grip, as if he was already imagining getting to use it on Fenrys. But Maeve held up her hand, and the male stilled. 'If you want that broken girl as your queen, then you can have her.'

She stood, walking towards him. He wanted to move, wanted to back away, but his feet were stuck to the floor. He remembered something he had heard Aelin mutter once as he shut her in the cell. _I will not be afraid. I will not be afraid. I will not be afraid._

Fenrys was not afraid of death. If anything, he would welcome it. But he knew, looking at Maeve, that it was not death coming to welcome him. It was something worse.

'You are released of your blood vow.' She said to him, her hand reaching out and swiping his cheek, drawing blood. 'Released for disloyalty and untrustworthiness. You lose your possessions and any respect you have. You are banned from here from now on, if you ever come to Doranelle again, you will regret it. Go, Fenrys, and see what your mortal queen will do for you. Fail.'

He stood there. Blood dripping from his face, his hands at his sides, and his eyes on his brother, still silent on the floor.

'Oh no.' Maeve said. 'I think he's going to stay with me. After all, he is the only one of you who has not betrayed me.'

'Please.' Fenrys never begged. But for his brother- for trying not to leave him here, alone in a wolves den- he would.

Maeve just laughed as she turned away from him. 'Leave now, Fenrys. Or I will change my mind.'

And helpless, Fenrys tore his eyes away from his twin and walked out, away from the city, wondering what he was going to do. Wondering if Whitethorn would repay the debt he owed, by helping him free Connell.


End file.
